


Doppelganger

by Lancelot_of_the_revolution



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, But like a tumblr post I made, By all means this should be crack, but it's not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22028308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancelot_of_the_revolution/pseuds/Lancelot_of_the_revolution
Summary: Crowley and Ten never actually met, but they know a lot of the same people, so they've both been aware of and totally vexed by each other for centuries(does this sound familiar? That's because it's based on a tumblr post I made a few months ago. I finally wrote it!)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 267





	Doppelganger

The first time Crowley is called by the wrong name is in Rome. He's attempted to commission a sculpture, but the man he's hired insists on giving him any work he wants free of charge. He thinks nothing of it then, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He barely even noticed the sculptor calling him "Doctor" at the time. 

The first time it happened to the Doctor was a bit more of an event. It wasn't long after he'd regenerated, just a few weeks after New New York. He and Rose were back in London, in the year of 1895. The Doctor had insisted on attending the opening night of some or other play, and Rose had agreed with the assumption that they wouldn't really be watching any play at all, trusting that a suitable alien threat would appear before showtime. 

Rose was right. 

Rose and the Doctor had split up to independently ask around after accounts of missing persons and seemingly contagious amnesia when the Doctor was stopped on the street by a white haired man with a kind smile and a tinge of mischief behind his blue eyes. 

"There you are! You have no idea how happy I am to see you, especially after-- oh, dear, I was beginning to think… anyway, I hope you had a good rest," the fidget in the man's hands, the nervous twitch in his smile-- the fact that something was going unsaid was painfully obvious even if the doctor had absolutely no idea what it was. 

The doctor was beginning to realize that he must have met this man before. Or rather, the man must have met him before. The Doctor will have met him eventually. Whatever the case, the man seemed to think that the two of them were well acquainted. And from the looks of it, they had a bit of a history. 

The man started talking again when it became clear that the doctor had no idea what to say. "Now, Crowley--" 

"Crowley?" that's different, thought the Doctor, Certainly not the usual John Smith. Not a bad pseudonym, though, he decided, and didn't think much else of it. This face was too young now to have been called by that name too often. But soon that name would make him groan. 

The man frowned, "yes...? Oh, have you changed it again?"

"No," the Doctor said, "No, I'm just trying it out. Crowley. Crow-ley. 'S got a nice sound, don't you think?"

"Dear boy, I know vanity is a sin, but is it really necessary right now?"

The Doctor was still mouthing this new name when the man finished his question, "cro-- wha? Oh, yeah, yeah I think it is. Little vanity now and then is healthy, I think."

"Of course you do," the man gave him an affectionate pat on the arm, "now, as I was saying, I've been covering for you since you've been asleep as best I can, but I can only do so much. And I've no idea how to access your paperwork so you'll have to clear that up yourself. I kept a running list of--" the man was cut off by Rose Tyler running full speed into the doctor's chest, knocking him back a good couple of feet. 

With the man completely forgotten, the Doctor steadied Rose on her feet. 

"What’s this about?!" 

"We’re banished!" Rose was giggling as she spoke, gripping the doctor's forearms and bouncing on her feet. Energized by adventure. 

"We’re what?"

"Banished! Banished from the empire! Don't you remember? I got arrested! Only just escaped-- we've got to run! Now!"

Something about that sounded familiar. But he'd been banished from a lot of places. "When were we banished?"

"A couple months ago, twenty years ago, depends on who you ask, I suppose! You remember the werewolf?"

"Right..." the doctor muttered, "Right, we are banished, huh. They remember that?"

"Apparently! Hell of a time explaining why I haven't aged, by the way."

The Doctor laughed, "On the bright side, at least you're not naked this time!" 

The man cleared his throat, calling attention back to himself. 

"Who's this?" 

The Doctor decided to ignore the implication that he'd been seen without Rose Tyler at any point in the near future. That was something he didn't want to think about. 

"This is rose--" 

"You’re not Crowley, are you?" 

"'fraid not, no," the Doctor said at the same time Rose said, "Crowley?" 

The man turned a bit pink, "I'm sorry," he muttered, looking at the ground, "I thought you were a friend of mine. Too good to be true, I suppose. Only, you look similar, and my friend has this funny habit of changing his appearance on the strangest whim..." he trailed off, chewing his cheek and knitting his brows together, obviously lost in thought. Then he looked up, adopted his cheerful smile and piped, "once again, dreadfully sorry to interrupt! I hope the two of you have a wonderful evening!" 

"Doctor, really, we have to run--" 

"Oh no you don't, dear," the man said just before turning around, "enjoy your evening"

Rose and the Doctor would soon discover that their banishment had been completely removed from any records, and that not a police officer in the empire remembered their faces. 

  
  


William Shakespeare stopped Crowley on his way into the Globe, grabbing him round the arm and pulling him back away from the door. 

“Doctor!” he’d said, excited as all hell, “You’re back! But your friend--”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s been a few years, I know,” Shakespeare was smiling like a loon, and Crowley hadn’t the faintest idea why, “I nearly didn’t recognize you, what with--” he gestured around his head for a moment, apparently indicating hair, “And what of the lovely Martha Jones? How is she?”

Crowley blinked, “Sir, I have absolutely no idea what in heaven you’re talking about right now.”

“Of course you do! You couldn’t have forgotten all that business with the witches and the portal in my theatre. At least, I certainly haven’t”

Crowley ran through a list of responses in his head. “Witches?!” was a good start, but would probably lead to an explanation he didn’t particularly feel like waiting around for. The same was the case for “Portal?!”. “What’s wrong with my hair?!” seemed a bit too insecure to say aloud, but the question was certainly coursing through his head. Finally he settled on a classic, “Look, I'm certain you’ve got the wrong guy.” and slipped off to his meeting with Aziraphale.

  
  
  


The old woman peered into the Doctor's eyes, keeping a firm grip on his tie.

"same face, alright, but a different man,"

"I think you've got it backwards, actually--"

The woman released the Doctor with a shove, knocking him back a couple steps right into Martha.

"I've got it exactly right, doctor. I always do."

  
  


Crowley found himself severely regretting his plan to weasel his way into Queen Elizabeth I’s court. Being flirted with and smacked by the most powerful woman in England over the course of a single lunch was quite the experience. Whoever this Doctor fellow was, he seemed to have done a hell of a job pissing of Good Queen Bess.

  
  


“I saw a man, Doctor you’ll never believe this, I saw a man who looked just like you in that restaurant!” Donna was pointing behind them, toward the building they had just passed. They were hurrying through Paris mid revolution, which is one hell of a time and place for tiny mind controlling aliens to try and take over. Really, they couldn’t have picked somewhere less head choppy?

“Best leave that alone,” the Doctor said, “That could be me from the future, and I'd hate to start a paradox when we’ve already got so much to deal with at the moment?”

“Oh, but a paradox on a slower day is alright?”

“Easier to deal with, in any case.”

“Anyway, that couldn’t have been you,” Donna snorted again. Apparently the man in the restaurant had delighted her to no end.

“And why’s that?”

“For starters, he was ginger. Bright red hair, bright as day.”

The Doctor frowned, “I could be ginger, if i wanted to.”

“And dressed like a complete fool. I mean, more foolish than you’re normally dressed, which is an accomplishment--”

“Hey!”

“And anyway it couldn’t have been you from the future.”

“If you insult either of us one more time--”

“No, see, it couldn’t have been you,” Donna announced, “because it was some white haired man sitting across from him. If it was you from the future, I’d be there with you.”

  
  
  


The man at the hospital was a false alarm, he’d really thought Crowley was a doctor. Good. Crowley had bigger things to worry about at the moment than the stranger wearing his face.

  
  


Crowley almost got his answer in a bar in Cardiff. He was out there for work and decided a drink to calm his nerves couldn’t hurt anything. It wasn’t like he had to take care of his liver.

A dark haired man with one of the nicer jawlines Crowley had seen over the years tapped on his shoulder. 

“Doctor?”

Crowley spun on his stool to completely face the man, “No! I’m not a damn doctor! But I sure would love to know who the fuck is and why I keep getting harrassed by his aquantances!”

The man seemed caught off guard, but only for a second. He cracked a grin and Crowley guessed that smile probably won him a lot of numbers. “Sorry about that, you just look like a friend of mine. Jack Harkness, by the way,” Jack Harkness By The Way stuck out his hand to shake, which Crowley wholeheartedly ignored.

“Anthony. And, yeah, I get that a lot. But it’s always the same friend.”

“He’s a popular man,” Jack shrugged, taking the seat next to Crowley. He nodded to the frankly concerning collection of glasses on the bar, “you look like a man who’s going through it.”

“That’s a very rude thing to point out, Jack”

“What’s the point of talking to strangers if you can’t get a good story out of them? Tell me what’s got you yelling at handsome men in bars?”

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Crowley said. 

"Oh, I don't think that's true. Trust me, Anthony, I've seen a lot. Really, I doubt this will be the wildest thing I hear all week," Jack insisted. 

"Alright. The world is ending in two weeks."

Jack didn't seem to be the least bit surprised, "the world ends every other Tuesday, man, I'm going to need you to be more specific."

"I mean it's capital E Ending. Book of Revelations Ending. Four horsemen, boiling seas, the whole bit!" Crowley turned his attention back to his drink before muttering, "all creatures, great and small..."

Now Jack looked interested. 

"Okay, okay, I need you to start at the beginning-- and I don't mean Genesis."

"Except you do," Crowley corrected. 

And then, for reasons he'll never know, he told Jack everything. He spent hours running through the highlights from Eden to Warlock and everything in between. He kept waiting for Jack to call bullshit on him, or at very least to ask him to prove his claims, but he didn't. Jack sat, and Jack listened, and for all the world Jack seemed to honestly believe every word out of Crowley's mouth. 

"So the fate of the world is on the shoulders of an eleven year old kid?" 

"Yes. You don't seem too scared."

Jack shrugged. If he was being completely honest, he was mostly wondering if the honest to goodness apocalypse would be enough to do him in. "I've seen the world resting on a lost less," he said, "and besides... If it's our time, it's our time, right?" 

The two of them were silent for a minute, neither of them looking at each other. 

Finally, Jack spoke again, "There's a million billion stars out there, all teeming with life," he muttered, "it's not a big deal, in the grand scheme of things. It's not the end of the universe, just the end of the world."

"Suppose you're right. Doesn't mean much for me, though. I'm on this world, not any of those," Aziraphale is on this world. 

"You are," Jack nodded, then leaned back away from Crowley, "but you don’t have to be. You’ve got all those powers don't you? Y'know, I hear Alpha Centauri is lovely this time of year."


End file.
